


Blaze of Glory

by QueenUnderTheMountain (Rinchen)



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Fallen Rock God Thorin, HRBB 14, M/M, The Hobbit Reverse Big Bang 2014, based on the awesome art by pandamani, rockstar!au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2018-03-01 16:23:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2779772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinchen/pseuds/QueenUnderTheMountain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin is the star of his generation. The most loved and admired rock singer of his time. Until his father died.<br/>Since then (and a major dispute with his manager that made him quit his job) he lived out of royalties, his former fame, and his daily amount of alcohol.<br/>As he was on his lowest, the chance of a comeback arrives on his door, in the form of an adorable curly haired man ...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the [ Rockstar!AU](http://pandamani.tumblr.com/tagged/rocker!Thorin) by pandamani. Written for the [ HRBB14](http://hobbitreversebang.tumblr.com/)

It rained heavily as Thorin walked over the paved alley on the way to his favourite pub. He had turned up the collar of his leather jacket to protect himself from the chill that had come with the downpour, but it didn't protect him from the rain itself. So Thorin was completely soaked when he reached the pub, flinging his jacket unceremoniously over a chair, before disappearing into the restroom where he wrung out his dripping hair.

He sat down on his favourite place near a crackling fireplace and ordered his favourite whiskey, the fire drying his clothes and hair. The warmth should reach his bones too, but all that he felt was a deep and intense bleakness that settled in his heart every year at that time for the last 10 years.

Thorin drowned one glass after the other, soon ordering a whole bottle to his table. He would get totally wasted tonight. He needed that. How he would get home he had no idea. Perhaps Dwalin would come and fetch him, or Dis. Thorin shuddered when he thought of his sister fetching him and the sermon that would follow unavoidably but he had to live with that.

A too well known memory made him listen properly to his surroundings and let him curse the innkeeper. Trust Bofur for that he will play one of his old No. 1 Hits every time Thorin visited his pub. At least it wasn't his Christmas Song. Thorin snorted. A Christmas Song in summer. Well, why not. He always enjoyed singing this particularly song. It reminded him of …

“Damn it.” Thorin wiped the tears aggressively away that had welled up unconsciously and drowned his grief in more alcohol.

The scraping of a chair on the floor made Thorin look up. He rolled his eyes as he noticed through his already drunken mind who had taken the seat opposite him. His record boss, Gandalf Grey, or, as he preferred to call him, the Wizard.

“My, what a chance meeting.”

“Gandalf. What do you want?”

“I just was dropping by and noticed you sitting there. And thus my old mind thought _Oh, why don't I say hello to my old friend Thorin._ ”

“You are the boss of my record company, not my friend.”

The old man with the white beard smiled gently, then leaned over to Thorin.

“It has been ten years today, Thorin.”

“I don't know what you are speaking of, old man.”

“Your father, Thrain, di-”

Thorin banged his fist onto the table. “Don't you dare.” He hissed venomously. This attracted the attention of the other customers and the innkeeper which came over to their table, concern visible on his face.

“Everything alright here? Is Mister Durin bothering you, Sir?”

“Oh no, not at all. We are indeed old friends, aren't we, Thorin?”

Thorin grumbled something and drank his whiskey in one gulp. As he wanted to refill his glass, Gandalf removed the bottle from his hands.

“I think you had enough.”

“Leave me be, old man. You can't safe anybody. You can't safe me.”

“I want you to do another album. And another tour. Then I will leave you to your peace.”

Thorin laughed hollowly, took the bottle, filled his glass to the top and gulped it down.

“That's sweet. You may remember that I don't even have an agent anymore”

“Ah, yes. The unlucky episode which brought you nearly to jail. I remember.”

“I'm not proud of it … So don't mock me.”

“I'm not mocking you, Thorin. I was able to find an aspiring employee of mine who wants to administer yours.”

“Administer, hmh?” Thorin stood up and tossed 50 Pound on the table. “You know what, Wizard? It was nice talking to you. I'm tired and I'm heading home.” He took his jacket, edged into it and stumbled to the door.

Suddenly Gandalf was next to him, opening the door for him. “You need a lift home?”

“Don't bother with me. I'll find my way home.”

“And worrying your sister.”

“Have you been spying on me, old man?”

“Why … how do you come to such an assumption? As if I ever would intrude in the life of my clients.”

Thorin groaned exasperated. “Take me home, Wizard.”

A short ride by car later they stopped in front the mansion Thorin lived in with his sister, her husband and his nephews. Although Thorin was mostly able to walk by himself, Gandalf accompanied him to the door. After fiddling a good while with the keys he finally got to open the door and stumbled inside. Decoyed from the noises Thorin's sister Dis appeared on top of the staircases.

“Thorin! Oh my Godness, are you well?” She hurried down the stairs and looked at Thorin.

“He is well, Mrs Durin. I just gave him a lift home.”

“Mister Gray! Thank you so much for that. I knew he would drink today and was worried so much. Now come, Thorin. I'll bring you to your room.” Thorin let himself be guide from Dis without opposition and fell, once there, heavily in his bed.

“He wants me to make another album and tour.”

“Who?”

“The Wizard.”

“Sleep now, big brother. We speak tomorrow when you are up to it.” Dis helped Thorin out of his boots, put the blanket over him and kissed him gently on the forehead. “Good night. Don't let your sorrows reign your dreams.”

Thorin opened his eyes and looked sadly at Dis. “I can't do that without him, Dis. I can't.”

“Shhhh. I know. I'll talk to Gandalf. Sleep now.” She stood up, turned out the light and closed the door behind her, leaving Thorin to his brooding self. She would talk to him in the morning.

As Dis descended the stairs, Mr Grey was still there, looking at Thorin's gold records which lined the walls down to the record studio he had installed. Dis approached Gandalf, leaning against the wall, arms crossed in front of her chest.

“Is it true what he had told me?”

“If he told you that I want him to make a come back, then yes. If he had told you something other, then no.”

Dis sighed. “You know he won't do it.”

“I have an aspiring agent at hand who would be enthusiastic and excited to take Thorin as a client. He might only be thirty years old, but he is good. My best pick of the bunch. I schooled him myself and am rather proud of him.” Gandalf looked at the woman. “Dis, darling. Thorin can't live on his royalties and airplay numbers forever. It would do him good, believe me.”

“Fine. I'll talk to him once he is sober. I know that he misses the music and his fans. Send that agent of yours over the day after tomorrow, at 10 o'clock in the morning. But if Thorin doesn't want to cooperate with him, I won't force him any further, are we understood?”

“Yes. Yes we are. Now dear, if you would show me out? I'm afraid I lost orientation.”

Dis grinned and lead Gandalf to the front door. “Remember, 10 o'clock. And don't be disappointed if he declines.”

* * *

Two days later the door rang at exactly 10 o'clock.

“I'll get the door!” Kili, one of Dis' sons shouted and ran to the door.

“No, you don't! Wait up! And DON'T OPEN THE DOOR, KILI DURIN!” The boy stood still and Dis grinned. Screaming her sons full name helped every time. She opened the door … and had to look down. In front of her stood a small man, half a head short than her.

“May I help you?”

“Good morning. I am Bilbo Baggins.”

“Who?”

The man sighed. “He didn't mention my name, did he?”

“I don't understand?”

“Typical. That meddling old sod doesn't bother to comply with the basics of politeness and respectability. Mister Grey, Gandalf, sent me. He said I should be here at 10 o'clock to meet my new client.”

“Oh! You're the agent!”

“Yes. Hello.” The man, Mister Baggins, smiled. “May I come in, Mrs ...”

“Durin. I am Thorin's sister. Come in. I'll call Thorin and then ...”

“No need to call for me.” Thorin emerged from the stairs and circled Bilbo.

“So. This is the publicist. He looks more like a grocer than an agent.”

Bilbo opened and closed his mouth like a fish. Never had he had met such an impolite and improper person. “Now listen ...”

“Tell me, Mister Baggins. How many artists have you been managing?”

“I don't see why that is relevant.”

“Just know that I am no easy client.”

“I can handle a small army of children. Be sure that I can handle a overgrown manchild just well. Where can we sit down to talk about the contract?” Thorin just blinked at the small man. Had he just talked him down? He shot Dis, who giggled, an angry look.

“Let's go to the sitting room, Mister Baggins. My brother will follow shortly.” She led Bilbo to the sitting room and Thorin couldn't help but stare after them. This was when he noticed the man's bum. A very nice, well rounded bum. Damn.

* * *

“So, that I understand right. There would be one album and one tour. Then nothing more?”

“No, the contract would include one studio album and one obligatory tour. After that there has to be nothing more. But if the client wishes ...”

“Thorin.”

“Excuse me?”

“The client is here and is called Thorin.” Thorin turned to Dis and Bilbo from the window he was standing on as Bilbo and Dis talked about the contract. He took a sip from a whiskey glass.

“And I will consider the offer. But there are some conditions on my side.”

“And those are?”

“I only work in my own recording studio. I will sing no songs composed by Thranduil. And I will not stand up before 10 AM.”

“Well … that can surely be arranged. Where is that studio?”

“In the basement.”

“And how is the technological standard?”

“I just had it renovated last year.”

“Good. We can record the songs here. Gandalf even mentioned that there would be the possibility of recording here only that he didn't know the standards of your studio. A studio is a studio. And according to that … Thranduil, was it?”

Thorin nodded.

“We will make a Special Edition of all your former hits. There is no need to hire external writers.”

Thorin nodded again. He felt relieved.

“Well, and standing up at 10 o'clock … We will see how that combines with our working schedule, won't we?”

Bilbo heard Dis snort next to him and suppress laughter. Thorin looked sour and turned to look out of the window again.

“So.” Bilbo clapped his hands together. “That is settled. Where is my room? I would like to refresh and unpack before I call Gandalf.”

He was met with silence.

“Is … something the matter? Didn't Gandalf tell that I was to stay here as long as we would record the songs and plan the tour? Oh no … he didn't! That blasted wizard.” He let himself fall exhausted into the sofa.

“Then just let me call a cab, I will drive down to the village and find a Bed & Breakfast where I can stay.” Bilbo stood up and fetched his phone from a nearby bag.

Dis, who had looked at Thorin for a long time, followed him and laid a hand on Bilbo's as he wanted to dial a cab company.

“You can stay here. We have enough rooms to share. Only … tell Gandalf the next time that he should fill in both parties when he plans something like this.”

“I will. Oh believe me, I will.”

* * *

Working with Thorin was more difficult that Bilbo would have thought, even though Gandalf had warned him about the eccentricity of the man.

As predicted, Thorin didn't emerge from his rooms before 10 o'clock. Sometimes not even before noon. Bilbo, who was an early riser had had breakfast, tea and a small snack right before lunch at that time and had contacted TV Shows, Radio Stations and diverse magazines to inform them about Thorin's possible comeback. Thorin was his usual charming self. He was moody, grumpy and seemed to be contradicted to every suggestion Bilbo made. Bilbo only had so much patience.

It was now two weeks that he had started to work with Thorin and live with his family. Surely, they were friendly towards him and Dis, Thorin's sister, did everything possible to make him feel at home, but sometimes they just got on his nerve, especially Dis's two teenage sons, Fili and Kili. They talked aloud when he talked on the phone, let the television run on full sound when he had to see through papers and just were very annoying. Bilbo was glad his own nephew was only ten and yet well behaved. He sighed, put his glasses from his nose down onto the table and massaged his temples.

“You know, you could try and knock at his door when you really want to work with him and make that comeback happen.”

Bilbo snorted. “As if he would open the door for me or would even listen to me what I have to say … I think I just have to wait until His Majesty emerges from his mountain.” Dis had to giggle.

“You two are a match.”

“Excuse me?”

“I'm sure that when you two have overcome your … differences … ” Bilbo raised his eyebrows. “Well,when you two have overcome your indifferences you will work quite well together.”

“As if. Your brother is moody, grumpy, rude, and stubborn as a mule. Oh … sorry. I didn't mean to ...”

“I know his personal treats, Bilbo.” Dis smiled.”So no offence taken.” Bilbo returned the smile and took a sip from the tea he was holding.

“Oh, by the way. We are visiting the boys' grandfather on the following weekend.”

“Their grandfather? I thought he was dead?”

“It their father's father.”

“Oh.” Bilbo felt stupid for not thinking of the obvious. Certainly one had two pairs of grandparents.

“Uhm … huh.” He coughed and took a sip from his tea again.

“You will be alone with Thorin from Friday to Monday, is that okay with you?”

“You make it sound as if we were small children who need supervision, dear Dis.”

“Well, you do. Why do you think there hasn't been a murder yet?”

“Very funny.”

“The point is. I will make food for the weekend for the two of you, you just have to heat it up.”

“That won't be necessary, I can cook myself.”

“Nonsense, you are still a guest in our house.”

“Well, if you insist.”

“I do.”

Bilbo smiled, drank up his tea and carried the cup into the kitchen. “I will miss you three, although it is only for the weekend.”

“Well, then don't ever quit this job.” Dis grinned and made her way into the kitchen.

* * *

The evening after Dis and her sons left, Bilbo made himself sandwiches from the ingredients his client's sister hadn't used up whilst making them for their travel. He thought of making an additional one for Thorin, but let it be. The man was grown up, he could make his own sandwich. Bilbo ate, made himself a pot of tea, and retreated then into his room to overlook a few offers before going to bed. Just as he was about to fall asleep he found it weird that he hadn't heard Thorin at all since his sister and nephews have been gone away.

As he had neither seen nor heard Thorin the next day until tea, Bilbo took heart and knocked on the man's door, the portal to Thorin's refuge. “Hello? Thorin?”

Thorin opened the door hastily. “What is it? Did you bring me finally food?”

“I … what?!? Why would I bring you food?”

“Dis is away, you are responsible for me! You have to bring me food, or I will starve!”

Bilbo looked at Thorin. “Have you been drinking?” He sniffed. “You have been drinking! I don't believe it! It is afternoon and you have been drinking since god knows when.”

“You didn't bring me food!” Bilbo rolled his eyes.

“And you behave like a child! No more alcohol for you today! Ah, what do I say! Forever!”

“You can't do that!”

“I can and I will. I am not here to provide you a comeback and to watch you succumb into your alcohol. I have no idea what your old agent did, but I will not tolerate it!”

“And I will not let you boss me around! I am a grown man!”

“A grown man who isn't able to make his own food and drinks alcohol instead!”

“You're a spoilsport!”

“And you are immature”

“You know what? Fuck you!” With that Thorin smashed his glass on the carpet and slammed the door shut behind him.

“Fine! Stay in there and starve! I don't care.” Bilbo turned and stomped down the hall into his room. He never had realized that Thorin's rooms were not far from his. He snorted. As if he ever bothered. Bilbo was close on putting his stuff into his suitcase. But he didn't. He had promised Gandalf to bring Thorin back onto the stage. And he would do that.

As it turned out Bilbo didn't hear the rest of the day from Thorin either. The other one must be asleep then, at last Bilbo hoped so. Due to his sulking Bilbo didn't get much done that day. He cursed himself, drew a bath and soaked in it for the good part of an hour. After that he went exhausted to bed, not bothering to dr his hair. It would be a mess in the morning, but here was no one who would even care, was there?

* * *

The next morning found Bilbo in the kitchen, still wearing his dressing gown, locks messed up from sleep. He had told himself he would bring them in order once he had had a healthy breakfast, afterwards working on some contract details for Thorin, wondering if the other would even bother to hold said contract.

As Bilbo stood on the stove, stirring his scrambled eggs, Thorin entered the kitchen, only clad in boxer shorts, and sat down at the kitchen table.

“Make me six eggs with ham, fried not poached, sunny side up. Mind you don't break them.”

Bilbo just could stare at Thorin (which had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that the man sat bare chested in front of him), blink and open and close his mouth like a fish. The nerve of that man!

“What are you looking like that? I am hungry.”

“Well … excuse me?!? I am your manager, not your PA or … or … servant! You can very well make your eggs yourself!” Bilbo scurried over to the fridge and put eggs and ham out of it. “Here are the eggs and the ham, the pan is already on the stove and still hot. You are a grown man and should be able to cook for yourself!”

Thorin looked down on the table. “I … can't.”

“You can't? What? Cooking? Opening eggs?”

“Cooking. I … I don't know why I am telling you this, but I had always people doing this things for me. First my mother, then my assistants and now my sister … I … I don't … “ He coughed. “And now it's your task, manager.”

Bilbo only could look unbelievingly at Thorin before he threw the dishcloth he was holding onto the table and ran out of the kitchen. Honestly, the nerve of that man. He would pack immediately, travel home and tell Gandalf it was impossible for him to work any time longer with that man. Thorin was mad! Mad and not able to work with anybody. The comeback was cancelled.

As he dragged his suitcase down the stairs Thorin came from out of the living room. “What are you doing?”

“I am leaving. You are difficult to work with, you don't cooperate and you are very, very rude.”

Thorin looked at him like a kicked puppy. “I thought you would organize my come back concert ...”

“Well, that will be cancelled. There is no comeback. I will not work with you and so will no one from Gandalf's people. Just … just go back to your brandy and whiskey and forget that I was ever here. You never wanted this comeback anyway. Goodbye, Thorin.” Bilbo opened the door and stepped through it. “Don't bother, a cab will pick me up.”

Thorin could just stand there and watch Bilbo leaving.

“Wait! Wait! Don't go!” He ran after the smaller man. “I … I know I am difficult, stubborn and occasionally an idiot ...”

Bilbo huffed. “Occasionally.”

“Fine … always! But … but I want this. I want to try this. I just … it's not the same without … him. I ...”

Bilbo looked a long time at Thorin. He considered the possibilities. Working with Thorin would be an outright disaster. But a disaster he would go through. He had promised Gandalf that he was able to help Thorin Durin to get a comeback and he as a Baggins would keep that promise.

He huffed frustraded and couldn't help himself but drag his suitcase inside again and closing the door. “And I'll help you with it.” He just had let go of the handle of his suitcase as he found himself in a tight and long embrace from Thorin.

Outside a cab honked a few times and then drove of again. Bilbo couldn't care less. He would help Thorin to get his comeback.


	2. Chapter 2

Summer reached its hot period and Bilbo was glad he could spent it in a cool recording studio. After their first two rough weeks he was able to work with Thorin on mostly neutral terms, the man trying his best to be hostile.

The recording of Thorin's old hits in ballad versions went very well and Bilbo only had to stop the recording engineer from leaving four times as of right now after Thorin snapped royally at him. Bilbo looked sternly at Thorin after another episode and went back to finish an E-Mail he was writing, reporting to Gandalf how they were proceeding. As an demonstration the added a part of the previous recording to the E-Mail and then hit sent. He hadn't wait too long until the notice of an answer pooped up on his desktop.

“ _I'm scheduling Thorin for an appearance in that Chart Show (what's the name again – forgive an old man whose brain isn't the best anymore) next Saturday. I want to bring the song you just sent me into the minds of the people again. G.”_

Bilbo sighed. A public appearance on Saturday it was, then. Now, how to tell Thorin …

As it turned out, Thorin wasn't as opposed to a gig as Bilbo thought he would be. Thorin was downright ecstatic to be on a stage again, even if it was just in some show for mainly teenagers, to promote his comeback.

Saturday arrived faster as Bilbo liked it. He had created accounts on Twitter and Facebook for Thorin where he spread word of Thorin's appearance and posted pictures of Thorin in the recording studio. To say Thorin was happy of that was the understatement of the century, hence, the millenium.

“Why do I need this newfangled stuff? And how does this even work?” Thorin clicked here and there, suddenly a bewildered look on his face. “I think I deleted it.”

“What?!? No, that is not possible. Did you agree to something while clicking around?” Bilbo panicked. Thorin didn't really manage to delete his profile in a few seconds? He took the laptop and clicked himself a few times. “There. Nothing happened.” The assurance was more or less for himself. I'll explain everything to you on Monday. Until then I handle everything on the Social Medias.”

“The what?”

“Social Medias. Twitter. Facebook. Goodness, Thorin. If I didn't know your real age I would think you are an old grandpa.”

“Perhaps I am.” Thorin stood up. “I'm getting a headache. Wake me at 8 tomorrow.”

Bilbo looked blinking after Thorin. He was not his personal servant or nanny. Honestly, that man.

* * *

They arrived an hour before the broadcast would start at the television station, Thorin hiding his hurting eyes behind dark shades. Bilbo ushered him into his assigned dressing room where he left him alone to cure his throbbing headache a bit more to inform the floor manager of their arrival.

Everything went well and they decided on setting Thorin at the end of the show, announcing there his big comeback and his upcoming tour. Bilbo meandered back to Thorin's dressing room, saying hello to the one or other PR Manager he knew and exchanging niceties. As he was about to round the last corner he could hear loud arguing.

“As if a loser like yourself would be able to relive his career. You are nothing without that old man.”

“Listen here, you little shit. You don't have to talk. You didn't manage a career yourself. You just hid behind your wife and now your son and his sidekicks. You are pathetic. You are … “

“Thorin!” A crack sounded through the hallways and Thorin sank to the floor as the other man walked away. Bilbo would later only remember the arrogance he walked by him and the long blond hair that the man wore like a cape.

“Thorin! Are you okay?” Bilbo knelt beside Thorin and helped him sitting up. 

“I'm okay. I'm okay. No need to worry. Damn, he hasn't lost his aim.”

“Your nose is bleeding. Come. Let's clean that up.” Bilbo hauled Thorin up and dragged him into the dressing room. There he put him onto the comfortable couch, pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket, opened a bottle of water and moistened it. Then he started to stop carefully the bleeding and cleaned Thorin up. “There you go. If you are lucky it doesn't turn blue.

Thorin, who had just let Bilbo do now smiled slightly at him. “Thank you.”

“Will you be able to perform?”

“I am not an amateur, Mister Baggins. A bleeding nose won't hinder me on singing.”

“Very well. You are due in two hours. Someone for the make up will arrive in an hour or so which means you can relax meanwhile or exercising your voice or whatever you do before a performance. And I start babbling. I leave you alone.”

With that Bilbo left and didn't enter Thorin's little room until it was time for him to be called onto stage.

The hours flew by entirely too fast and Thorin found himself sooner on the stage as it was dear to him. The quarrel with Thranduil had set him off in a way he didn't know from himself and he was still upset as he entered the stage, microphone in his hand. The light was still turned out as the host gave a short summary about Thorin and his previous career and how happy he was that the announcement of his comeback was made in his show.

“Liar.” Thorin thought. “This whole business is full of liars.” And Bilbo Baggins had lied to him too. He wasn't able to do this without his father. His biggest supporter and fan. Who gave him the courage to send in his first demo tape. He didn't want to participate in this swamp of liars and made himself ready to leave the stage. The comeback was off. Should Baggins cope with those pathetic liars.

But Thorin wasn't able to leave the stage before the light were turned on, leaving him in the spotlight. The music started and he knew that he had to do something: it was either singing or running. While he stood perplexed in the spotlight, he missed his entry. Now, now it was time to do something. Thorin waved and gesticulated that something must be amiss with the microphone. Immediately he got handed a new one, the light got off again and the music began to play.

Thorin started to sing. First a bit shaky and restrained, not used on being on stage for so many years, but as soon as the up-tempo refrain came up, he gave totally into the music and the text, finally feeling at ease again. As the song ended, the first careful tacts of the new ballad version of “Misty Mountains” tingled in the background.

“So … thank you for having me. I am Thorin Oakenshield and this is from my upcoming album. There will also be a tour.” He grinned, his headache and Thranduil forgotten.

_Far over the Misty Mountains cold …_

* * *

Bilbo had some errands to run and to meet Gandalf. Therefore he sent Thorin home alone (in the car the record label had given them for the day – he should really take Gandalf's offer of a permanent driver) but not without telling him that his appearance was an entire success and the downloads of both songs have already increased.

“Is that good?”

“Good? Thorin! This is wonderful! The more downloads, the more buzz marketing! I didn't think this would go as fast.”

Thorin grinned. “I'm a natural. A ladies man. Have always been.” He pinched Bilbo playful in the bum before sitting down in the car. “I'll cure my headache and see you later, Agent.” Thorin put on his sunglasses and closed the door. Bilbo frowned as the car pulled off. Thorin seemed too cheerful for his liking. And furthermore he should be opposed that Thorin had pinched his bum! But oddly he found it quite … endearing. He shook his head and called for a cab.

“Grey Records, please.”

* * *

As Bilbo headed back to his temporary home he found it silent. Too silent. He had expected Fili and Kili running around like the energetic teenagers they were and their mother screaming after them. The picture would be completed with Thorin laying on one of the couches in the living room demanding them to tone it down.

He looked around and found a note pinned next to the key board.

_Have gone out shopping with the boys. Will return for dinner. Hope everything went well. Dis._

Well, that explained that. Now … where was Thorin? Bilbo first went to the recording studio, passing all the gold records Thorin had gotten back in the late 80s. But there was nobody in it. He ventured through the house and eventually got the idea to look in Thorin's rooms. He knew the man loathed it when someone entered his holy halls, but Bilbo wanted to check on him, had the other man lamented about a headache earlier. Bilbo knocked silently on the door. No answer. Another knock gave neither an answer. He shrugged and opened the door carefully.

“It's me, Thorin. I am coming in.”

Bilbo opened the door completely and was greeted with utter darkness. Only the soft tunes coming from out of some loudspeakers revealed that there must be someone in the room.

“Thorin? Are you in there?”

“Leave me alone.” Bilbo wrinkled his nose upon the slur in Thorin's voice.

“Have you been drinking? And where are you?” He looked around. “I can't see anything. Can I turn on the light?”

“I am here, Bilbo. Wonderful Bilbo.” Suddenly there were arms around Bilbo's waist which made him squeak with surprise.

“Leave me be, you brute. And you _have_ been drinking. Why, Thorin? Why?” Bilbo wriggled himself out of Thorin's arms. “I thought we said that you quit drinking? And I thought you liked the show? Why now? Why?” He made his way to the door and switched on the light. Thorin groaned at the sudden brightness.

“I … I'm … Look … I'm an idiot it seems.”

“Yes, you are. Clean this mess up, clean yourself up and sober up, for heavens sake. Or I won't tell you our next plans.”

“You are not my keeper!”

“No, but your nanny, it seems. Clean. Up.”

“Or else?”

Bilbo threw up his hands frustrated. “Fine! Do what you want. If you want to poison yourself with that shit, then so be it. I do not care. I will fulfill our contract, and then I'm out.”

He shut the door behind himself with more force than necessary and left behind a Thorin who stared a long time on the door before throwing his glass against it.

* * *

As Bilbo entered the kitchen the next morning he found Dis and the boys happily chatting about how great it was to have Thorin for breakfast and that the man had even eaten something and not only just drunk his coffee.

“And where is he now?”

“Bilbo, good morning!You may believe it or not, but he is in the garage. He called his old friend Dwalin and said he should bring tools. They wanted to fix The Lady?”

“The Lady?”

“His old bike, Mister Boggins. A great thing. Uncle Thorin even fetched me from school with it when I was little.”

“Us both, you moron.” Fili shoved his brother before they both bolted of and ran into their room. Dis sighed and started to gather the plates.

“You may think they grow up eventually. But they will remain little boys forever.” Bilbo had to chuckle which he hid behind his Earl Grey. 

After finishing his breakfast he decided to check on Thorin and went into the garage. There he nearly ran into a big man with broad shoulders and mumbled his apologies.

“Ah, you must be Thorin's Mister Baggins.”

“I'm not his ...”

“Dwalin! He's not mine ...”

The big man laughed out loud. “If you two say so. Thorin … why don't you show you Mister Baggins the wonders of The Lady now that it runs again. I'll have to call Ori anyway.” Dwalin patted Bilbo on the shoulder, put out a phone and left the garage.

“So … have you ever been sitting on a bike?”

“Are you even sober enough to drive?”

“I wasn't that drunk. Well, have you been?”

“Only on a Vespa when I was younger. I owned one, if you must know.”

“Fine, then you know the stuff. Come on, let's mount the beast and show her the world.” Thorin threw a helmet to Bilbo which the smaller man caught barely. He put on a helmet himself and started the engine. “I'm not waiting the whole morning, Mister Baggins.”

Bilbo sat behind Thorin and fastened himself on the handles right and left to him. Thorin looked over his shoulder and scowled.

“It would be better if you hold onto me, Mister Baggins. It's safer. Yes, safer.”

Bilbo shrugged but put his arm nevertheless around Thorin's waist. He felt instantly warm and if his heard did make a little jump it was entirely his business.

“Well then, let's see if Minty is still up to her usual mischief.” Thorin turned the key and started the engine, which roared in delight, before he set the machine down the driveway and onto the street.

Bilbo had to hold closer to Thorin as he sped up and blushed instantly. He could feel Thorin breathing in deeply and was happy for him. Perhaps this was just the entertainment and distraction the man needed.

The round on the bike was over quicker than it was dear to Bilbo. Thorin parked Minty onto the driveway and let Bilbo dismount. The smaller man put off the helmet and handed it to Thorin.

“Well, this was very refreshing. We should do this more often. I didn't knew I missed being on two wheels.” He watched Thorin putting off his helmet too and smiling at him. Bilbo returned the smile which was responded with another one from Thorin. He coughed and looked onto the paving.

“Well. I … should be going inside. There are some things to do. I have to do things ...”

“Very well, Mister Baggins. I'll follow shortly. I have to fix a few things that I noticed while driving.” He lifted his hands after Bilbo looked horrified at the bike. “Nothing dangerous, Mister Baggins. Just minor things.”

“That's good then … Well, I'll be going.” The smaller man shoved his hands into his pockets and strolled up to the house.

“Oh, and by the way, Mister Baggins.”

“Yes?” Bilbo turned around.

“These trousers contour your backside very well. You should wear them more often.”

Bilbo felt the heat rising into his cheeks and scurried back inside, Thorin's laughter trailing after him.


End file.
